


Crime and Punishment

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Prompt Fills 2018 [51]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Exhibitionism, Multi, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 12:41:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17001861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: Written for the comment_fic prompt: Stargate Multiverse, any, the punishment should fit the crimeRodney is caught. Lorne, John, and Ronon decide how he should be punished.





	Crime and Punishment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SherlockianSyndromes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockianSyndromes/gifts).



“Now that we’ve caught him, what should we do with him?” Lorne asked.

Rodney could say nothing. He was bound to his desk chair and gagged, staring helplessly up at Lorne, John, and Ronon.

“Punishment should fit the crime,” Ronon said.

Rodney wanted to protest. Yes, he’d been caught with his laptop browser open to Atlantis’s security feed - specifically a portion of the feed that was inside one of the communal showers - but he hadn’t been doing anything wrong. The showers were out of the way from the rest of the city’s main locker rooms, and there had been a brief note on it in the Ancient database.  _ Use rarely. _

Rodney, concerned that the place was dangerous, had gone looking for it - and found the security feed. That focused right on the half-dozen shower heads, in the massive tiled shower stall. The expedition had installed its own security feed before they’d discovered the existing one, but there was no way any part of it would be in people’s private quarters or any of the bathrooms. Cameras focused on entrances and exits were sufficient to maintain security.

So he’d been confused and a little worried by the camera feed, and he’d dug deeper.

Apparently the Ancients had set this shower aside and deliberately installed a security feed that was publicly available because, bless their pervy little hearts, it was a setup for volunteer porn. Anyone who wanted could use the showers, be a bit of an exhibitionist. Anyone who wanted could watch.

Rodney had meant to leave it at that, he really had, only while he’d been doing his research someone had gone into the shower.

John. Naked and gleaming and wet - and clearly just scrubbing himself down after a sparring session.

With Ronon, who joined him a few moments later.

They scrubbed, they dried, they dressed, and they left.

Sure, Rodney had seen his teammates in various states of undress. It was inevitable when they bunked offworld overnight. But this was different. He’d never seen both of them totally naked. And he’d never had the unfettered chance to just look at them. Study them. Appreciate them.

Apparently the showers had somehow become the designated space for senior military command only or something, because besides Ronon and John, the only other person who used them was Lorne.

Rodney had always appreciated Lorne’s handsomeness in a general, sort of vague way. Whenever he thought of Lorne, the man’s sarcasm came to mind first. But Lorne had tattoos, and that was unexpected, and Rodney was curious.

Even though the feed was patched into his computer, it was an Ancient system, so Rodney could control it with his mind via the Gene, and when he leaned in to get a better look at Lorne’s ink, the feed zoomed in.

After that, it was - easy. To set an alert on his laptop so he’d know whenever someone used the showers.

He hadn’t counted on any of the three men figuring out anyone was watching.

And now here he was, bound and helpless and unable to explain himself.

“Usually you handle discipline,” John said to Lorne. “What do you think?”

“I think,” Lorne said, “there’s really only one thing to do.”

John raised his eyebrows.

Lorne said, “Follow my lead.”

John and Ronon exchanged looks, but then John said, “Sure. I like your discipline. You’re creative.”

“It’s the artist in me,” Evan said. He crossed the room, and Rodney closed his eyes, shrank back.

But then he was moving. Evan was pushing his chair.

Rodney opened his eyes, and Evan pushed his chair toward his desk, facing his laptop.

“Lorne?” John asked.

Lorne started for the door. “If he wants to watch, let him watch.” He swiped a hand, and Rodney’s door hissed open.

John and Ronon followed him, and the door hissed shut. Beeped. It was locked now. Only a super strong gene carrier could override the lock.

And Rodney was tied up, hands behind his back, his ankles bound to the legs of the chair. He’d never get free without help. They were just going to leave him there to stare at the empty screen for who knew how long. Not long enough to cause him serious issues, but - he’d just had a very large lunch. They could leave him alone well past dinner. Given what Rodney knew of military hazing rituals, they probably would leave him here for hours.

His mouth was getting dry from the gag, and his jaw hurt. Could he use his gene to get Atlantis to send a message? Maybe Radek would come free him. Except then he’d see the shower feed and know what Rodney had been up to.

Rodney wilted, miserable.

And then his computer beeped.

Motion alert.

Someone was stepping into the showers.

That someone was Lorne. Naked. He stepped under one of the shower heads, waved a hand, and water started to fall. Lorne tipped his head back to wet his hair, and then he reached for the shampoo. Just like every other shower.

What the hell was he doing, taking a shower when he knew Rodney was watching?

Lorne lathered up his hair fast, rinsed it even faster, because he had military short hair. Ronon had to take a long time on his hair.

Then Lorne reached for the bar of soap, spun it in his fist to work up a lather, starting soaping himself down. He moved quickly and efficiently, no wasted movements. John was the same way in a shower. It was probably a military thing: no wasting water. Both John and Lorne had served in Afghanistan, Rodney knew. Maybe it was a desert thing, where clean water was a precious commodity.

Lorne was trying to prove some kind of point, wasn’t he? Military showers were boring.

But instead of rinsing himself off and shutting off the water and reaching for a towel, Lorne scooped up the bar of soap again, worked up another lather. And reached down, grasped his own cock, started to stroke.

Rodney’s breath hitched in his chest. 

Lorne had his head tipped back, eyes closed while he stroked himself. A pretty pink flushing was starting to spread down his chest. His rosy nipples were hard and glistening under the sluicing shower water.

Rodney felt himself blushing, heat prickling along his skin.

Lorne opened his eyes and looked right at the camera. How did he know where it was?

He said, “This is your punishment, Rodney. You want to watch? You get to watch. But you don’t get to touch. Not me, and not yourself.”

Rodney swallowed hard, but his mouth was still so dry.

“And not,” Lorne said, “anyone else.”

Rodney’s pulse thundered in his ears. Anyone else?

Ronon, naked and gleaming, stepped under the shower head beside Lorne’s, waved a hand, and the water turned on. He started washing himself, seemingly totally oblivious to the fact that Lorne was jerking himself off right beside him.

Rodney panted behind his gag, feeling his cock swell in his pants.

By now Lorne’s cock was hard, shiny and dark as it slid in and out of his fist. Rodney could almost imagine how it would feel in his own hand, hot and silky-smooth and hard. He  _ wanted. _

Ronon was still scrubbing himself with the bar of soap. Was he going to start jerking off too? Because Rodney didn’t think he could handle that.

Suddenly Ronon growled, and he pinned Lorne to the shower wall, arms above his head. Rodney groaned when Ronon reached out, curled his hand around Lorne’s cock and started to stroke him. Ronon was already half-hard himself, and he got harder as Lorne moaned and writhed, begging for more, harder, faster.

When Lorne finally came, Ronon stroking him through his orgasm, Rodney was completely hard in his pants. He whimpered and squirmed, but he couldn’t get any friction, had no hope of relief.

Rodney felt the dampness of precome spread through his shorts when John stepped onto the scene, John naked and golden and grinning. Lorne slid to one side, to the showerhead Ronon had been using, rinsing himself off with shaking hands, still breathing hard.

Ronon sank to his knees, grabbed John by the hips, dragged him in close, and swallowed John’s cock. John groaned, head tipping back. He settled his hand on Ronon’s head carefully.

“Yeah, like that.”

Rodney could see John’s cock hardening in Ronon’s mouth as Ronon bobbed up and down on the length of it. John in arousal was beautiful, skin flushed, lips parted, eyes closed.

Then his eyes flew open, and he cried out, staggering forward, clutching Ronon’s shoulders to stay upright. Because Ronon had reached behind him, started fingering him. John started wriggling, trying to thrust back onto Ronon’s fingers and into his mouth, eyes wide and dark with pleasure.

Ronon pulled off of John’s cock with a filthy slurping sound. “Easy. Don’t finish too fast.”

John stumbled, and Ronon caught him. Lifted him. John responded automatically, like he’d done this a hundred times before - had he? - and wrapped his legs around Ronon’s waist, hung onto his shoulders.

And Ronon thrust into him.

It was better than any porn movie Rodney had ever seen. He could see every flex of muscle as Ronon pounded into John, could see John’s face slack with pleasure as he met each thrust. 

Lorne must have recovered, because then he stepped back under the other showerhead and up behind John. He put a hand on John’s jaw, leaned in, and kissed him. He reached between John and Ronon, stroked John’s nipple. John moaned into the kiss, and Lorne reached lower. Ronon growled in pleasure. Lorne continued to play with John’s body, fondling his nipples and stroking his cock while Ronon fucked him.

It was so hot. Rodney thrust weakly in his chair, but he couldn’t get any friction, any relief. He was so hard and he was dripping wet and -

John screamed into Lorne’s mouth and came, shuddering while Lorne and Ronon held him tight. Ronon came seconds later, thrusting wildly into John before he pulled out. Lorne helped John back onto his feet, and then the three of them were clinging to each other under the pouring water, panting and gasping, kissing and caressing.

Rodney came, hot and sticky and messy in his pants, sobbing from minged frustration and relief.

He could only watch as the three men separated, cleaned themselves off. One by one they shut off the water, reached for towels, and stepped out of the scene.

Rodney’s heartbeat was finally coming down a few minutes later when his door beeped. Unlocked. Horrified, he tried to squeeze his knees together to hide the mess of his uniform pants, but it was Lorne, John, and Ronon who came into his quarters.

“What do you think, sir?” Lorne asked John, sounding totally calm and professional and completely unlike someone who’d just had a wild threesome in a shower. “Punishment fit the crime?”

“Absolutely,” Ronon said.

It was John who crossed Rodney’s quarters, tugged him around to look at him. “Poor guy’s a mess. Guess you enjoyed the show, huh? Well, that’s what you get for watching without permission. Have you learned your lesson?” John loosed Rodney’s gag with a swift tug.

“Yes,” Rodney said, “I’m sorry.”

“You should be,” Lorne said. “Next time, if you ask permission, you can join in.”

Rodney, embarrassed and avoiding John’s gaze while John untied his hands and feet, looked up sharply. “I can?”

Ronon helped John tug Rodney to his feet. “Yeah.”

John peeled Rodney out of his shirt, and Ronon herded Rodney over to the ensuite. 

“Come on,” John said. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Lorne peeled out of his shirt too.


End file.
